


What We've Left to Weather

by kosame



Series: Think of Me [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Asexual Character, Drama, Family, Gen, M/M, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-08-25
Updated: 2012-05-13
Packaged: 2017-10-23 01:19:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/244663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kosame/pseuds/kosame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're a family, or at least they're trying to be. Prequel to <i>Think of Me</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> March 1970

"Care to say that to my face, or do ya only have the guts to mumble it!?" Denmark was out of his seat, both hands flat on the table where he had slammed them there moments before.

Sweden rose slowly on the other side of the table, posture no less aggressive than Denmark's, but exuding cold fury to counter Denmark's red-hot temper, the low light exaggerating his severe features. "I said, I think yer using us against Frankrike and Tyskland1 'cause yer scared."

Norway just kept staring straight ahead and spinning his pen idly.

"I'm not scared of Tyskland or anybody!" Denmark shot back, and the bravado in his voice belied the way he was shaking with emotion.

Sweden snorted, but before he could say anything further, the door to the conference room opened. His demeanor immediately changed, retreating back into his silent shell.

Letting the door swing shut behind him, Finland walked around to the fourth chair at the table but didn't sit down.

"We've been waiting," Denmark said, not quite able to excise all the anger from his voice.

Finland gave them a thin smile. "Sorry," he said lightly. "I'm not signing it," he said a moment later.

Denmark's jaw dropped. "What!?"

Renewing the false smile, Finland spoke with fake pleasantness in his voice. "Sorry." He turned and walked right back out of the room.

A few silent moments later, Sweden had finished gathering his things and left as well.

Sliding heavily back into his seat, Denmark grabbed his hair in two handfuls, elbows resting on the table.

Norway's pen stopped spinning. His eyes slid to Denmark, looking him over for a minute, before focusing back on the wall opposite him. "Told you."

Denmark's head snapped up, anger and hurt in his eyes. "You say that like you don't care that two years of work has just gone down the drain."

Not bothering to reply, Norway gathered his things, snapping his briefcase shut with a sharp click. He stood to leave, but stopped after a few steps. "If you have any other ideas, call me." And then he was gone.

All alone, Denmark surrendered to the circumstances. He switched off the projector, plunging the already dim room into darkness.

***

"Finland," Sweden called after him, catching up to a few paces behind him but not closing the last of the gap to walk next to him.

Closing his eyes for a moment for serenity, he stopped in the middle of the hall and heard Sweden do the same a beat later. He turned slowly, careful to force a vaguely pleasant expression onto his face. "I'm not signing it."

Sweden took one more step but stopped again abruptly. "We worked so hard. It'd be good fer all of us."

"Which is why you were arguing with Tanska when I walked in?" Finland tried not to be bitter, he did, but sometimes Sweden made it too easy. "It must be nice to have your neutrality respected, then you don't have to be afraid someone's going to turn around and screw you over, huh?"

Expression closing, Sweden stood stock still, impossible to read.

Taking the opportunity to twist the knife deeper, Finland continued, "Some of us have to worry about whether or not a 'cheerful request' is going to come out of Moskova." He told himself he wasn't being cruel, and even if he was, he didn't care. "I'm not signing it."

Sweden wilted in place as Finland stalked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1Germany Back
> 
> Hi again :D When I wrote _Think of Me_ , I had to figure out a lot of backstory that never made it into the actual story, so when lar!anon said they'd like to see how Norway and Denmark got together, well :Db I will caution, though, that this story is much more of an ensemble piece, including Sweden and Finland much more than _Think of Me_ did. And there's a lot more unhappy feelings, as you probably gathered from this chapter :/ But I hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless :D?
> 
>  
> 
> Historical notes: The thing Finland is refusing to sign is Nordek, an economic cooperative endeavor conceived to include Denmark, Norway, Sweden, and Finland. A proposal was put forth by Denmark in 1968 and everything was all ready to sign in 1970 until Finland suddenly pulled out citing its fragile relations with the USSR. Spoilers for future chapters (?), but Nordek really died when Norway and Denmark decided to apply for EEC (what later became the EU) membership. You can read more about it [here](http://www.eurotrib.com/?op=displaystory;sid=2008/3/20/183947/374).
> 
> All four of them declared neutrality at the beginning of WWII, but all but Sweden ended up being pulled in, Denmark and Norway occupied by the Nazis, Finland getting caught up in [three different conflicts](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Finland_in_World_War_II).


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denmark and Norway start work on joining the EEC.

After two rings, Norway reached out and picked up his sleek, black office phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, Norge, it's me, Danmark."

Grunting a response, Norway turned back to his paperwork, sure Denmark wasn't going to say anything of consequence.

"You said to call if I had any other ideas. Well, I was thinking, what about the EEC?"

Norway rolled his eyes and unceremoniously dropped the phone back in its cradle.

Thirty seconds later, the phone rang again. He waited two rings and picked it up. "Hello?"

"I know it hasn't worked before, but just hear me out," Denmark continued as if the conversation hadn't been interrupted at all. "Some of the people in my government have been talking about it, and I know yours have too. I don't think Frankrig will block us anymore, so it could really work this time."

He finished reading the document and signing it before replying, leaving Denmark hanging on purpose. "I guess it's not the stupidest idea you've ever had, not that that's saying much."

"Great, so it's settled then. I'll come up there next week and we can work together, how does that sound?"

"We each have to write our own, idiot," Norway drawled as he lazily added his signature to another document.

"I know that," Denmark said quickly, "I just thought we could help each other since it's the same stuff."

"I don't need your help, but if you bring me a nice dinner, I guess I could be persuaded to help you." Norway was sure Denmark was smiling in the beat of silence that followed.

"You got it, one dinner for my best friend!"

Norway liked telephones for the sheer fact that Denmark couldn't see the fond part of the fond exasperation on his face. As long as he could keep it out of his voice, he didn't have to worry about his expression. "Fine. Come on Tuesday."

"Okay. See you then, Norge!"

"Bye."

His hand lingered on the phone as he set it back down. It really would be helpful not to have to do it alone, and he wondered if he should feel bad about asking Denmark to cook on top of coming all the way up to Oslo to work with him. But as he thought about having an actual home cooked meal instead of the convenience food he subsisted off of most nights, he couldn't bring himself to actually care.

* * *

The sitting room was a disaster. Denmark and Norway each had copies of their last two attempts to join the EEC spread in front of them, marking areas for update or revision in red pen. Denmark's side was covered in several stacks of paper, presumably sorted into some categories that made sense to him. The space around Norway, however, was littered haphazardly with documents.

"Huh? Norge, I think I have one of yours," Denmark said as he picked up the next paper in off one of his piles. He squinted at the comments scribbled in the margins, turning the paper at an angle to better read them. "Wow, don't you think that's a little harsh?"

Norway snatched the page out of Denmark's hand. "Shut up." He dropped it on his other side.

"Okay," Denmark said with a smile.

Honestly, that made Norway even more annoyed. Norway was mean, it was an objective fact, so why did Denmark always just sit there and take it? Not that he hadn't always, but something about his demeanor had changed in the past few decades to be more passive, and the more Norway thought about it, the more it pissed him off. "You're so annoying."

"I guess I am," Denmark said absently, turning cheerfully back to what he was reading.

The paper crinkled as his grip tightened. _Now_ Denmark was making him ruin documents. Calmly setting his work down, he proceeded to punch Denmark hard in the arm, needing to do something to relieve the itch in his hands other than strangle the other man.

"Ow, Norge, you're really strong!" The smile was still there, infuriating Norway even as it did something funny to his lungs. What was Denmark's _problem_?

Norway turned back to back to his reading, determined to ignore Denmark's presence, with a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently France was so dedicated to not allowing the UK into the EEC that it rejected or suspended the process for the other countries who applied at the same time, including Denmark and Norway. After leadership changed in 1969, however, suddenly it seemed like maybe Denmark and Norway could finally get into the EEC. The continued to pursue Nordek until it fell apart in early 1970, but they also opened talks on getting into the EEC.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Norway reflects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> August, 1972 and December, 1941

Spending so much time with Denmark was clearly bad for Norway's health. That was the only thing that made any sense. He angrily slammed the door to his office shut, walking to his desk and sitting heavily in the chair.

Ever since they'd started writing their proposals together, Denmark suddenly seemed to be in Norway's life even more obnoxiously often than before. It was like splinters under his skin, irritation that he couldn't get away from no matter what he did. The constant needling was distracting, and Norway didn't do "head in the clouds". Frustrated didn't even begin to cover how angry he was at himself at the moment, losing focus in a meeting and embarrassing himself in front of the whole cabinet like that.

It wasn't like he was still holding a grudge over the things that had happened when they were in the union. Denmark had apologized and Norway had forgiven him, and 150 years was plenty long enough for even a nation to hold something against another. It wasn't anger.

Denmark hadn't done anything but be his best friend since Norway started speaking to him again. If anything, he had gone beyond what a best friend would do. That was probably the problem, actually. Because if Denmark wasn't being so friendly, there's no way Norway's heart would skip a beat when they reached for a document at the same time. There's no way his breath would catch when Denmark would smile at him over a homemade dinner.

One month to the referendum. It was true Norway had been fond of Denmark since they first met, they lived together for years, and Denmark had never made it a secret how deeply he cared for Norway. Norway would be lying if he said he'd never thought about it, but giving in to his feelings was as bad an idea now as it had been back then. He could make it one more month.

Then he could stop talking to stupid Denmark and stop thinking about his stupid smile and stop remembering how stupidly good it felt to kiss him and how stupid he was for ever having done so.

* * *

Norway stumbled as he was tossed roughly into the dim train compartment, temporarily blinded by the loss of the light from the corridor behind the door as it slid shut with a bang. He spun around as soon as he regained his balance and launched himself against the door, yelling the most violent curses he could think of at the unyielding wood.

"Norge? That you?"

Even with the hoarseness in the question, Norway recognized the voice instantly. His fists halted their pounding, and he turned slowly to squint into the shadows. "Danmark?"

"What are you doing here?" Denmark held out a hand in invitation to Norway, and he crossed the small compartment in large steps. Sliding one knee onto the bench, he leaned down and hesitantly touched Denmark's face, trying to confirm with his fingertips what he couldn't with his eyes, that it was really his friend sitting before him. "Why aren't you with your government?"

"I had to stay and fight," Norway said, anger flaring up again. "Until I got caught." The hand that had been on Denmark's cheek balled up into a fist and punched the wall behind his head. He tried to turn his rage back on the door, but Denmark's hand on his waist held firm. The other one reached up and covered Norway's fist gently.

"I'm glad you're alright."

The fight began to drain out of Norway like it always did when faced with Denmark's sincerity, but then something occurred to him that made him jerk his hand away. "You made a deal with them," he hissed, "That's why you're here now."

"Norge, no," Denmark started, but a over a year in the resistance had left Norway paranoid. He tried to struggle out of Denmark's hold, and when that didn't work, began beating on Denmark's chest.

"Let go, let go! Don't pretend to be my friend, I won't fall for it! You hear me?!" he shouted at the door, "I'm not falling for it!" His motions became more and more uncoordinated as he wore himself out, fatigue from the ordeal he'd been through since his capture finally catching up with him. "This is all your fault!" Two last weak fists landed on Denmark's chest as he stopped for breath, and realized he wasn't the only one wheezing. He pushed open Denmark's coat without any resistance and realized the flashes of white he'd seen reflected in the faint light were bandages running nearly the length of Denmark's torso. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing," Denmark answered in between labored breaths. "I'm a 'model protectorate'." His tone was wry around the pain at the edges of his voice.

Norway's hands bunched in the fabric. Even though the anger at Denmark for what he'd done in the war and even before that was still there, it was drowned out by the depth of relief he felt to know that he and Denmark were still on the same side. He didn't protest when Denmark's arms tightened around him, pulling him into an embrace.

"You're okay," Denmark murmured against his middle. "You're okay."

"They couldn't kill me, idiot," Norway said, wrapping his own arms around Denmark's head and shoulders. "We're immortal."

Denmark shook his head, his nose tickling a little as it moved from side to side. "You're right. It's my fault. I should have been better, I--"

The rambling stuttered to a halt when Norway kissed the corner of Denmark's mouth. "Shut up."

"Norge?" Denmark breathed, looking up at Norway in confusion. It was a strange sensation to be taller than Denmark for once, to be the one looking down instead of up. No doubt it was fueling the recklessness thrumming in his veins.

"It's annoying to hear you apologize for things that aren't your fault. How about apologizing for the things that are?"

Not knowing how to respond, Denmark gaped up at him. Norway leaned down again, this time kissing him full on the mouth. It was a little clumsy at first, but Denmark was nothing if not eager, responding with an alacrity beyond what Norway had ever imagined kissing him would be like. One large hand splayed out on his back as the kiss went on, the touch seeping into Norway's skin and making him realize just how starved he'd he'd been for human contact.

They sat there in the darkness, breathing each other's breaths in silence after they broke apart. The break gave Norway a chance to finally think about what he was doing, about what he just did. Chances were good Denmark was still in love with him, and no matter how angry he was, it wasn't right to play with Denmark's feelings. "Sorry," he said lowly. "I've been in isolation for two weeks. I didn't realize how desperate that would make me to see even a big lug like you." Grateful that he didn't have to see Denmark's expression, he waited tensely for a response.

"No, I understand," Denmark replied, forced lightness in his voice. "Anything for my best friend."

Norway heard the question in Denmark's voice, and figured he probably owed his friend at least one straight answer after what he'd just pulled. "I guess it could be worse than being stuck with a best friend like you."

"That so?" Denmark said brightly.

Shifting out of his half standing position to actually sit on the bench, he let Denmark rub little circles on his arm, soaking up the physical and metaphorical warmth. He tried desperately not to think about the dire situation they were in, clinging to his friend as the train click-clacked southwards into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Norwegian Referendum to join the EEC was held on Sept. 24-25, 1972, and ultimately went on to fail.
> 
> The scene on the train is based only loosely on specific historical events. Having surrendered to Germany, Denmark got pretty lenient occupation terms, where the government stayed in power. As a result, the Danish resistance didn't really start picking up until 1941 when communism was outlawed. I imagine nation-Denmark would have been left pretty much alone as well, despite how it usually works in Hetalia, where captured nations have to go live in their captor's houses. In Nov. 1941, however, Denmark was coerced into signing the Anti-Comintern Pact, which given what nation-Denmark's temper is like probably got him personally into a bit of hot water. Norway, on the other hand, had a government in exile, where the entire government fled north and then went by ship to the UK. They had a much more active resistance movement. I very much encourage you to read some more about them :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Norway manipulates Denmark's feelings, and Denmark falls for it hook, line, and sinker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late October, 1972

"Are you avoiding me?" Denmark hissed in Norway's ear, gripping his arm just above the elbow gently but firmly.

Of course he was. "No."

"Liar." Denmark steered them down a side corridor, trying to get away from witnesses as quietly as possible as all the nations filed out of the world meeting for their lunch break.

As soon as he was sure no one was watching, Norway ripped his arm away and put as much distance as possible between them. Denmark's cologne was clogging his brain already, the warmth on his shoulder from where they'd been touching not conducive to his plan to dampen his rekindled feelings for his old friend.

Remaining undeterred as ever, Denmark plied him with more questions. "Are you angry at me for getting your hopes up about the EEC?"

"Why would I care about that?" Norway looked up towards the light fixtures on the wall, as much to look aloof as to give himself a chance to focus. "My people don't want to, so we're not doing it."

"That mine passed, then."

"If your people want to get in line with those continental idiots, that's your business."

"Then what is it?"

Norway peeked at Denmark's expression out of the corner of his eye, wondering if an excuse or an insult would work better. There was a tinge of hurt under the frustration, and while he felt guilty at being the cause of Denmark coming to the end of his rope, it was a good opportunity to create a long-term problem between them. Hitting the nerve it was, then. "Maybe spending so much time around you reminded me how much everything about you annoys me."

But instead of the angry escalation he'd expected, Denmark physically recoiled, as if he'd been slapped. Shock was quickly replaced by a hard blankness, vaguely hostile but more impersonal than anything else. "I apologize for _inflicting_ myself on you," he said coldly.

Ignoring the sinking feeling that he'd caused real hurt, Norway refused to take it back, remaining silent and waiting for Denmark to self-destruct.

"I don't know why I ever thought--" Denmark's voice did something strange, then he growled in frustration, bringing it back under control. "I'll try to stay out of your way as much as possible."

"Please do."

Denmark stayed for a moment longer, searching Norway's face for something, but apparently not finding it, turning on his heel and stalking away.

Once he was safely gone, Norway closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly in an attempt to calm his racing heart. It wasn't anything different from what he normally said. It was Denmark's fault if he suddenly was going to be so sensitive. This is what Norway wanted in the first place anyway, right? Space to get his head on straight.

He had sworn a long time ago he would never give in to his feelings for Denmark, and he wasn't about to start now. It was too dangerous. Give it time, and Denmark would forgive him, and by then his crush would have faded just like always. This is what he wanted.

Calm, he set off for lunch.

* * *

"Tell me you're not really crying in the toilet." Netherlands leaned casually against the row of sinks, hands in his pockets.

The obscene gesture Denmark gave him in response told him at least his friend wasn't completely devastated. "What do you want, Ned?" His voice didn't sound like he'd been crying; rather, it sounded lifeless, resigned.

"The kid got nervous when you never showed up for lunch. I told him I'd help look for you."

"Island's looking for me? Shit, shit, shit." Netherlands supposed the hand he scrubbed over his face was supposed to make him look less emotionally devastated, but it had the opposite effect.

"Calm down. We went opposite directions, so there's little chance he's going to show up any time soon. Why don't you tell Oom Nederland what's wrong?"

"I'm older than you."

"Broer Nederland, then," Netherlands conceded, rolling his eyes.

"It's nothing," Denmark mumbled moodily.

"Just spit it out!"

"It's not a big deal!"

"If you don't tell me, I'm telling the kid you're dying."

"Fine!" Denmark yelled, not challenging the ridiculousness of that claim, simple as always. "I thought Norge and I were actually on our way to being friends again, but it turns out he can't stand anything about me!"

"Noorwegen says crap like that all the time," Netherlands said, not impressed.

"It's not just what he said, it's that he has to stand so far away from me when we talk I almost have to shout."

"That's, okay, that's a little strange."

"I'm just angry at myself for getting my hopes up again. How many times does he have to reject me before I learn?" Denmark stared at his reflection, as if he could spot the reason Norway hated him just by looking hard enough.

Netherlands patted him a little awkwardly on the back. "That's rough, man."

Denmark straightened from where he'd been hunched close to the mirror. "I'll just have to deal with it."

The two of them left the bathroom, running into Iceland not far from the entrance to the conference room. The panic on his face was quickly hidden behind a layer of annoyance, but Netherlands imagined if he had seen it, so had Denmark. "Where have you been?" he demanded, looking young even for him.

"Sorry, I was just taking care of some business."

"You were too busy to eat lunch? What kind of stupid plan is that? You don't have time to eat now, and we still have the whole afternoon to go."

"It's okay, I can gut through it," Denmark insisted, softening visibly around the edges.

Iceland made a deeply displeased noise, as though he could not quite believe the depths of Denmark's stupidity. "You're lucky I noticed you were gone. Here." He held out a semi-squished sandwich with four little indents on top that looked suspiciously like tense fingers. "Don't expect me to save you like this again."

"Thanks, Island," Denmark said, taking the offered lunch. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Brow furrowed, Iceland bit his lip and looked away from Denmark's earnest gratitude. "I'm going in." He stomped off.

Denmark held up the sandwich, showing it to Netherlands, and gave him an ironic smile. Unwrapping it, he ate it in large, slow bites, and then the two of them went back to work together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That Dutch is supposed to say "Uncle Netherlands" and "Brother Netherlands," respectively.
> 
> I'm sorry this chapter took so long, I just... didn't want Norway to do it, as silly as that sounds. D: Don't worry, though, chapter five will be (comparatively) lighter, with Iceland :D


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denmark and Iceland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early September, 1973.

The telephone startled him awake, the book that had fallen on his chest when he dozed off sliding off and onto the floor with a thump. Denmark scrambled for the phone, having no thought other than to make the ringing stop. "Hello?"

"...Hi."

"Island?" He looked around for a clock, wanting to verify his sense that it was very late. "Has something happened?"

"Sorry," Iceland finally said, "I knew I shouldn't have called." His tone lacked its usual bite.

"Wait! It's okay, I wasn't asleep or anything."

Another pause. "I don't have anything to say."

 _Then why did you call?_ Denmark didn't ask. For all that Iceland was comparatively taciturn, he usually didn't have any trouble being straightforward when he did decide to share his opinions. Denmark had gathered from the assorted arguments he'd had with the young man in the time leading up to his independence that his aversion to insincerity had a lot to do with watching Sweden, Norway, and himself tear each other apart over and over again, and it was guilt that kept him from pointing out to Iceland that an attitude like that wouldn't get him far in international diplomacy. Maybe if he would have stopped living in a fantasy world, and if Norway would have ever said what he meant, and if Sweden would have ever communicated period, they could have avoided some of the more petty, personal scars between the three of them. "I could tell you about the book I'm reading?" he finally offered.

"No," Iceland said. "Goodnight, Danmörk."

"Sleep well, Island," Denmark answered reluctantly.

It wasn't the first time Iceland had been a little strange recently, Denmark thought as he hung up the phone. Granted, there had been a lot going on for him, but Iceland normally handled stress with calm and the occasional sarcastic quip. At the very least, he usually stubbornly refused to look weak in front of the rest of them, so Denmark at least felt like he had to be extra sensitive to any small changes in Iceland's demeanor.

The question was, though, how to do something without being threatening. Picking up his book and setting it carefully on the table, Denmark switched off the lamp and went to bed, suddenly feeling very tired.

* * *

It wasn't exactly a surprise, opening his front door to the sounds of someone in the kitchen. Of course, he could have also had more notice than, "the ambassador just called to warn you that you may have company." Iceland tried not to take it out on his coat and briefcase as he barely restrained himself from storming inside.

"Hey, Island!" Denmark said cheerfully from behind the stove. Just like him to come into someone's house without their permission and make himself at home.

"What are you doing here?" Iceland demanded.

"Cooking," Denmark answered. "You know how I get restless when I'm worried."

"So you had to break into my house!?"

"Well, I didn't think they'd keep if I mailed them, plus customs would have had a fit." Something in his gaze sharpened, as though challenging Iceland to catch on to what he wasn't saying.

"I don't understand you at all," Iceland said, giving up.

"A person feels better when he eats well," Denmark said, not making any more sense. "Food needs to be made with love."

"What—" Something occurred to him. "How much did you _make_?"

"Enough to last you a while, I hope," he said casually, while Iceland began to take stock of his kitchen and just how much food Denmark had made.

Unable to even form a response, Iceland stormed over to his small table and huffed down into a chair, crossing his arms and glowering. He supposed most nations would be happy Denmark had mellowed in such a way that he just made enough food to feed his army instead of taking it out for a spin around Europe when he was upset, but they weren't the ones who had him in their kitchen making a triple batch of meatballs. He was so busy staring moodily at the seam where the ceiling met the wall, he didn't notice Denmark watching him right away. " _What_?"

"I know things have been stressful for you recently.."

"You're worried about _me_?" Iceland's anger flared back up. "So you just waltz in here, expecting to fix things for me? I can take care of myself!"

"I can be concerned for you without meddling in your affairs," Denmark said in a quiet voice. "We all need support so we can work through our problems on our own. That's what family is for."

Opening his mouth and then closing it again, his feelings were almost defused, until he stumbled upon a separate outlet for his displeasure. "All of us, huh? What about you? Who do you talk to?"

"Me? I, uh, I have..."

"Exactly!" Iceland said, seizing on the lull. "You can't expect me to lean on you when you won't lean on me."

He couldn't see Denmark's face from where he was sitting, as the other man had turned back to the pan, flipping things halfheartedly with his spoon. Beginning to feel smug in his victory, he wasn't expecting Denmark to reply, "Okay."

"What?"

"You're right," Denmark said, "and I know you hate that about me, so from now on I'll confide in you." He took advantage of Iceland's stunned silence to scoop up some of the finished meatballs out of the pan and set them down in front of the young man.

Staring at the plate in front of him for a few moments, Iceland finally decided to just pick up the fork and eat one. "It's good," he said.

"'Course it is," Denmark answered, beaming. "I put extra TLC in there just for you!"

He speared another and put it in his mouth as soon as he swallowed the first. It reminded him a little involuntarily of the first time he'd really understood that Denmark cared about him for him, not just as some extension of Norway.

Denmark's house had been different than Iceland remembered it, somehow darker or quieter, the atmosphere seeming to discourage all noise. After Norway had gone, Denmark had ordered the three of them back to their respective homes, something Greenland had jumped on and Faroes had cried herself to sleep over in Iceland's arms. Having had nearly a hundred years to think about it, Iceland was convinced that Denmark didn't care about them and that he never had. Now he was back in Copenhagen, ready to argue his way into independence, both for his people and for himself.

Over the course of his stay, he and Denmark had fought constantly, mostly because Iceland wanted a fight and Denmark had never had control over his temper. It was easy to push his buttons, drag Sweden and Norway's names into it, accuse him of being self-centered and heartless. He had been so sure Denmark would dismiss him in a fit of anger, thinking "good riddance."

But after several nights of storming off to bed angry, slamming doors and viciously reviewing what had been said in his head, looking for more weaknesses, he was starting to run out of accusations, and Denmark still hadn't had enough. He was so busy thinking, he hadn't been expecting the soft knock on the door, didn't have anything ready to snap when Denmark pushed the door open and sat down next to Iceland on the bed, putting a plate of food on the bedside table. Iceland rolled away, trying to make it clear he didn't want Denmark there, but the warm hand on his back surprised him, as well as the gentle fondness in Denmark's voice, as he told Iceland he was proud of the strong nation he'd become.

That was when Iceland realized, being spoiled by bigger nations taking care of him, living in their house instead of with his people, had been holding him back. He hadn't really been able to grow until he'd arrived back home to deal with both the joys and challenges of being a nation instead of a child.

He listened quietly to the rest of what Denmark murmured, about how he was sorry he hadn't been a better example, and how he was sure Iceland would get his sovereignty very soon. Then he chuckled, saying he'd put a lot of love into dinner, so Iceland had better eat it all, before he left, closing the door with a quiet click behind him. Iceland had chewed over more than the food that night, as he imagined he could taste the feeling Denmark spoke of adding like it was a spice.

Nearly sixty years later, and here they were again, Denmark surprising him with an acknowledgment he was someone responsible enough to be trusted with important things. He still didn't really know how to handle it. "We're getting rid of z."

"Huh?"

"The letter z. We're replacing it with s. That's why I called you the other night."

"This is about... your alphabet?" Denmark looked flabbergasted.

"I told you it was a stupid reason. I don't even know why it's bothering me. It just feels... weird."

After a few moments of dumbfounded silence, Denmark laughed, leaning down and giving Iceland a one-armed hug. Out of respect, Iceland confined himself to making a face, not pushing him away at all. It was as close to a "thank you" as Denmark was getting from him. He went back to dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What Denmark thinks Iceland is stressed about are the Cod Wars and the eruption of the volcano Eldfell. [[Wiki]](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cod_wars#The_Second_Cod_War) Z was in fact removed from the Icelandic alphabet in favor of s, apparently due to redundancy.
> 
> I'm sorry this took so long to get out, it just really didn't want to be written >.< I'm really, really stressed right now, so either that'll translate into me writing heaps or me curling up and not wanting to deal with the world. We shall see :Db


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> July, 1975

"Sit," Norway all but ordered, barely looking back over his shoulder.

Sweden didn't hesitate any further, following Norway's request and taking the seat next to him immediately. He had been lurking there for a good few minutes, not sure if he was welcome, but certainly not relishing the thought of going back out into the crowd at the reception. Between Finland's outright hostility and the stomach-turning prospect of encountering one of the Soviets, sticking with Norway's slow-burning but known anger was a preferable prospect.

"You're annoying when you're being passive-aggressive," Norway complained.

Shrugging, Sweden mumbled an apology. "Wasn't sure just how much ya don't like me."

A little derisive laugh escaped Norway, surprising him. "I don't have to like you to talk to you, else I'd never speak."

"Ya know what I mean," Sweden insisted, turning a little red.

"How nice of you to finally consider my feelings," Norway shot, taking an idle sip of his drink, and the barb stuck in Sweden's chest. "But I've been in a forgiving mood the last few decades."

"Yer not still angry, ya mean?"

Norway shifted in his seat. "Don't have that luxury anymore, do I?"

Sweden didn't say anything, although Norway could tell it was a calculated silence and not a casual one. Turning him against silence was possibly the thing he hated most about being around Sweden; it was anathema to him that there should be any time he preferred chatter. "What," he demanded curtly, even though he was prescient enough to know what Sweden was thinking already.

"...'Ts true we're stuck on one side together," Sweden said carefully.

"There's a difference between cooperation and joining hands in some child's vision of peace and harmony, especially when it's only to oppose another 'rosy vision'," he said harshly, staring into his drink.

"What about fraternity?"

Norway actually snorted into his drink. "We tried that too. Regretting sabotaging it at the time?" After a few beats of silence, he glanced over to find Sweden just staring at him soberly. "Sell it to someone who's buying," he said, unable to comprehend how Sweden could possibly be delusional enough to think Norway would take him seriously.

"Thing about democracy," Sweden persisted, "we have _personal_ freedom."

 _This_ was more in line with the Sweden Norway knew: unwilling to give an inch on his political interests, but selfishly unable to accept the consequence of those decisions was solitude. "Prosperity making you sentimental?" He shook his head. "If you're looking for someone to be pathetically codependent with, I think we both know someone who has that as a prominent personality trait."

"'F ya mean Danmark," Sweden said, "plan on asking him too."

"What an attractive offer you've made," Norway said sarcastically. He started to stand up, but a hand on his arm made him stop.

"Don't pretend ya like being alone any more than the rest 'f us," he said, leaving the _I know you far too well to be hoodwinked into believing otherwise_ unsaid. It was true, unfortunately. He didn't like talking to people he didn't know well, and he'd purposefully alienated to various degrees the Nations closest to him, leaving his only real interactions with regular humans at work. It wore on him, if he was honest, no matter how he tried to order himself to get over it.

"When have you known me to do anything else?" he said in the slightest of capitulations. 

Sweden just shrugged, but Norway could see his tiny smile.

***

"Why don't you go over and try to talk to some people?" Denmark suggested idly to Iceland from where they sat on the opposite side of the lounge.

Iceland scowled a little, putting a little venom in his reply. "Why don't you?" It was petty, but aside from the fact that could manage his international relations without Denmark's help, thank you, the hypocrisy of the remark rubbed him wrong.

Denmark looked up from his moping and gave Iceland, leaning against the table next to him instead of sitting, a weak smile. "I'm not allowed to talk to the communists, I'll cause an international incident and drag NATO into a war."

Iceland was fairly certain the Nation in question was more likely to egg him on than be offended, but maybe Denmark had taken that lack of reverence for the almighty USSR into account in his calculations. "You could _semaphore_ a conversation with him," he said, rolling his eyes and dismissing that it might conceivably be insensitive to point out Denmark's proximity to the iron curtain.

Denmark just made a non-committal noise. Iceland followed his gaze to where East and West Germany were awkwardly trying to orient themselves 180° from each other at all times when it was quite clear they had no interest in speaking to anyone but each other. This whole situation was crap, Iceland thought, surveying all the various people carefully avoiding each other. Not that he wasn't avoiding someone as well, but that was actually for legitimate reasons of England could have his fishing rights when he pried them from his cold, dead hands. Everyone else clearly _wanted_ to speak to someone dear to them and couldn't, and despite the fact that he didn't personally care much, it still irritated him something fierce. There had to be some way around this idiocy.

He stopped scanning the room as it came to him. "You're friends with Austurríki, right?"

"Uh, yeah, we bake together sometimes. Why?"

"Then go talk to Ungverjaland."

"Ungarn?" Denmark looked completely confused, and Iceland was tempted to walk away and leave him there if he was that dense. "We're not really close... Oh!" He stood and clapped Iceland on the shoulder, before striding off and saying something flirtatious to Hungary, judging by her response.

 _Who needs guidance now?_ Iceland thought smugly. He gave the best advice.


End file.
